Animal
Avatar!Quaritch X AFAB human!reader
***Words*** : 6,181,
***Summary*** : Assigned as a subordinate to Colonel Miles Quaritch, you and Quaritch started to develop a surprising relationship and fondness for each other. Who would've thought that hiding under the tough exterior of a hardened Marine was a tenderness and warmth that was quickly growing into a flame of desire
***Content tags/warnings*** : Oral sex, size kink, fingering, office sex, powerplay, pet names, praise, stomach bulge mention, edging, penetration, slight voyeuristic themes.
***Notes*** : Avatar!Quaritch, Human!reader(AFAB), Prior to the final battle of ATWOW, but after Quaritch bonded with his Ikran. Quaritch is SoftTM but still snarky, mainly because I get too sad to write mean characters :(
The full playlist I used for inspo is here
***NSFW BELOW / 18+ ONLY***
"Lieutenant (L/N)..."
The Avatar that greeted you gives a slight nod in your direction as she passes before continuing on down the hall in the way you had just come from. She wore a cocky smile, and the way she popped her gum between her teeth gave the impression that she felt superior to almost everyone around her despite her casual nature. That wouldn't be surprising for "Z-dog," though. The Avatar is easily identified by the tattoos plastering every inch of her muscular arms and the way her head was shaved bald on the sides. The remaining strip of hair on top cut into a short mohawk, which then ended in the signature long braid all Na'vi and Avatar wore
Returning her "friendly" gesture with your own, you give her a slight nod and jog past without slowing down. The greeting you mutter out unintentionally comes off as rushed and impatient. Had it been anyone else, you would have cared. You turn your head over your shoulder a moment later to throw a spare glance back down the hall.
In doing so, you catch a quick glimpse of a second Avatar as he manifests from somewhere beyond your peripheral vision. This one wore sunglasses despite being inside, and his hair was shaved close to his head. His long braid trailed down his back.
He quickly fell in step with the first Avatar, matching her long strides with such a lack of effort that it could've made you jealous.
Okay... maybe it did make you a little jealous, but you brush it from your mind when the pair breaks into a brisk trot and round a corner, disappearing from sight.
With that, you turn your gaze forwards once more with a roll of your eyes, and a scoff bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head slightly. They may not have had anything to do this morning besides take a jog or have a quick spar session based on the military-style PT garb they wore, but you couldn't say the same for yourself. You also would not hear the end of it from Quaritch if you didn't get a move on.
Since the RDA's return to Pandora, this was the new normal. The presence of Avatars walking around and living indoors on base, that is. Unlike previous times, though, most, if not all, of the Avatars stationed on base at the Bridgehead were a kind of... reincarnation. A reincarnation of those who had perished during the RDA's first attempt at establishing a human presence on Pandora 15 years ago. More specifically, they were reincarnations of a select few human Marines that had perished during the final battle at the Hallelujah Mountains, right before the rest of the humans were rallied up and sent back to earth.
As far as you understood, this was possible since every Avatar clone (more formally known as a Recombinant or Recom) could contain all the recorded memories of a single person. The person whose memories an Avatar held, also being the same person to volunteer the human half of DNA needed for the Avatar's creation. The scary thing to think about with Recoms, though, and the only difference between Recoms and their original Avatar counterparts, was that Recoms were genuine clones. They didn't have or need a driver. They were fully sentient and conscious. They were alive like any other human, Na'vi, or animal on Pandora.
As you continue toward the Colonel's quarters through the maze of hallways that made up the base, you couldn't help but think about what that was like.
What was it like waking up in a body that was but at the same time wasn't truly your own? Do the memories imprinted upon you feel real? Or were they so artificial that you couldn't feel any sense of relation or ownership over them? Did this lack of ownership mean that you weren't the same person as the person in the memories given to you? How much of a clone is the person they're being told they are? And how much of them is an entirely new, separate entity with their own thoughts, morals, and ideas?
You let your thoughts wander on this philosophical mindfuck, and your feet mindlessly guide you further down your path. The route you took now being ingrained into your daily routine, practically becoming instinctual with how frequent your visits to the Colonel's quarters had become.
What was it like to look in a mirror and be met with a face that seemed so familiar yet felt so... foreign? Was it kin to deja vu? Or was it more similar to the feelings one got when a buried memory from childhood was awoken by something like a familiar scent or the discovery of an old trinket? The fondness that came when they were reminded of a happier, more innocent time. The feeling of longing to experience it again before it evolved into desperation, desperation to again feel happiness in the way they did before they knew sorrow. A desperation to again feel the bliss of wonder that came with childish innocence. And finally came the feeling of hopelessness with the burden of knowing they could never go back, no matter how desperate they became. The anguish of knowing that their reality would never be the same.
You pushed these thoughts to the back of your mind for later. The rhythmic sound and feel of your heavy combat boots as they clamored against the metal floor grates and the occasional hiss of airlocks on doors lining the halls told you that you were nearing your destination. Every day, it was always the same. Well... almost the same. For yourself, every day started with debriefing the Colonel, but some days, no... most days now, it was more of an excuse you used just for visiting Miles.
Now, standing in front of the closed door that belonged to none other than Colonel Miles Quaritch himself, you wait patiently. As patiently as you could, anyway. The urge to simply walk inside the room builds at the back of your mind as you wrestle with your anticipation and excitement.
It was such bullshit that you had to put on this little performance every time you came for a visit, but there was no way either of your superiors would allow for the... "fraternization" between the two of you. Not to mention, Quaritch was your superior. Within the first day of you being assigned to his command, Quaritch had made this fact clear.
On day one, Quaritch made you his errand runner and... unofficial secretary. You ran messages, documents, and reports back and forth. You made sure Quaritch didn't miss any important meetings or events and ensured that every morning he was given the debrief from General Ardmor and that he was caught up to speed on the situation regarding the Na'vi. You even helped with paperwork write-ups and tended to his needs regarding the upkeep of his quarters when he requested or, instead... demanded. You were confident that half of the things he had you do weren't at all legal, though. Primarily due to the fact you had to deal with confidentiality and classification high above your own clearance and pay grade. Usually, your least challenging task was making Quaritch's coffee in the morning. He didn't take it with anything but a bit of cream and the Na'vi-size spoonful of sugar you snuck in, but the mug was half the size of you.
Now that you thought about it, Quaritch always wondered how you seemed to make his coffee taste "so damn amazing." Every time he asked, you refused to tell him.
Initially, Quaritch set these tasks upon you for his own sick enjoyment, finding some kind of cruel satisfaction or amusement in working you into the ground and watching you run around like a chicken without its head. He relished in your misery, and he would make sure you knew that he did every day. Within the last few months, though, something had... changed, but not just between the two of you. It felt like Quaritch himself had changed somehow. Either way, being around Quaritch felt... comfortable now rather than like you were walking around on eggshells with a bomb in your hands. You could also tell that recently he enjoyed having you hanging around more than he enjoyed busting your ass for no apparent reason, even if he wouldn't admit it.
Maybe it was the way you made his coffee...
With your insides writhing around in a way that made you believe your stomach would toss this morning's breakfast onto the floor, you continued to wait.
The cold, clammy sweat that clings to your palms urges you to dry them off on the sides of your pants. Then, an icy dread washes down your spine to gather in the pit of your gut, tickling across your back, as you hear boots shuffling across the floor on the other side of the sealed door.
You had just begun to gently chew at the inside of your lip when you heard the airlock finally release. The doors to the Colonel's quarters opened to reveal the impressively massive man waiting inside.
Standing at 9 '5" as an Avatar, Quaritch was not only practically a giant but also heavily muscled.
Na'vi and Avatar were predisposed to be well-built, sure, but you were almost certain that Quaritch had surpassed their average fitness standards.
The definition in Quaritch's biceps and shoulders stood out clearly due to the tight, sleeveless tank top he was wearing. The veins in his hands and the ones that crept up along his forearms were prominent against his blue skin due to the sheer amount of lean muscle that made up his physique.
After a moment, you finally realize that you had been and still were staring at his arms.
Mortified, your eyes shoot up to Quaritch's own, and you quickly move to stand at attention. The skin under the collar of your uniform burns beneath his intense gaze as he looms over you in the doorway.
With his eyes slowly rolling over every inch of you, he crosses his arms over his chest. The way he stared at you, the way he observed you, felt dangerous. Thirsty, like a predator drinking up the image of its prey moments before an attack.
"Colonel-...!"
Although you both had become somewhat familiar with each other, comfortable, even, you couldn't help just how jittery you felt every time you were in his presence. It always felt like you were meeting him, seeing him for the first time again. You watch as Quaritch continues to eye you hungrily.
Another moment passes before he finally gives you a dismissive wave, releasing you from your salute.
"At ease, Lieutenant..."
Quaritch turns and walks back into his quarters, clearly expecting you to follow as he moves to stand behind the desk that sits at the back of the room.
"You have my mornin' report, I assume?"
Dutifully, you trail behind Quaritch and move further into the room. Your feet only came to a standstill once you were in front of his desk, planting you there until you were otherwise directed.
"Yes, Colonel, sir."
Your reply was immediate. It had been instinctual, learned, engraved into you from the moment you began training with the Marines all those years ago. That didn't stop the tickle of a smile from creeping onto Quaritch's lips when he heard it, though.
"Really, Cupcake?" Quaritch murmured; he was still smiling.
Quaritch leans down to fiddle with something on his computer screen, and you observe the way his more ridged demeanor begins to edge away slightly. You assume this was because the doors to his quarters were closed once more, leaving just the two of you inside, alone and utterly free of any and all would be prying eyes.
Either way, the microscopic change in Quaritch allows tension to fall from your shoulders. His voice added to the effect. Not all that dissimilar to how the tide would smooth the sharp edges of stone over time, it seemed to soothe the buzzing of your nerves and quiet your racing thoughts.
Then, you feel embarrassment creep into your cheeks, noting just how much of an absolute doormat you had sounded like moments prior.
The heat and color in your face begin to spread up to your ears a few seconds later. A warmth tickled at the back of your neck, growing stronger as well.
"It's not my fault you find it amusing or that you're 10' tall and tend to strike the fear of god into most people..."
You now stare at the ground, fiddling with the file in your hands. The whiny, childish nature of your words causes you to cringe internally. You could practically hear the pout on your lips.
Due to a chuckle from Quaritch, though, you quickly relax again. Your eyes return to his before your gaze is caught by something on his computer screen. You watch as he closes out the task on his hologram before turning it off.
Then, he brought the respirator mask that hung loose around his neck up to his mouth and took a breath or two of some supplemental CO2 from his AAS rebreather.
Shaking his head slightly, Quaritch gives a wry smile before allowing the mask to hang against his chest again. He stares at you, not even attempting to mask the way his gaze rakes over you. His hands rest on his hips as his piercing gaze moves up, down, and back up over you from head to toe, only to finally rest on your face.
A moment later, Quaritch comes back from behind his desk to stand in front of it, to stand in front of you. The Avatar leans back against it to half-sit, half-stand as he moves to prop one leg over the other at the ankle. His hands reach around to stabilize himself, gripping the edge of the desk behind him.
With this new change in proximity, you could feel your heart skip a beat and pray that Quaritch wouldn't notice. The sheer volume of the persistent thudding in your ears convinced you that he would surely hear it as your eyes flickered down to where his hands rested. The muscle in his arms flexes as he holds on to the edge, and for a moment, you swore you could feel butterflies flood your stomach.
You forced yourself to tear your gaze away and cast it to the floor instead, unable to meet Quaritch's eyes as you could still feel them. Quaritch had a knack for torturing you with embarrassment, so it didn't surprise you that he wasn't pulling any stops now. That didn't make it any less effective, though. You also knew he would only continue, seeing how he was obviously succeeding.
"Report, Lieutenant"
Quaritch's voice was firm despite having dropped an octave, coming out somewhat hushed compared to when you had first entered the room. The teasing tone it took on telling you all you needed about how much of this he was doing on purpose.
Giving a slight nod, you open the file in your hands and begin to skim over the first page. You hoped this would give you some time to compose yourself, but deep down, you could see that you were long past the point of no return.
Hands still somewhat shaky, you swallowed back the dryness in your throat and willed your legs to remain beneath you as you started to read off some of that morning's essential updates.
You were only a little over halfway done with the first page when Quaritch brought his hand up to rest a few fingers at the top of the file.
Gently guiding the folder down, Quaritch ducks his head slightly to catch your gaze, leaning closer toward you in the process.
"(Y/N....)"
The skin at the back of your neck prickles, and you can feel the hairs of your arms stand on end, rising at the sound of your name on Quaritch's lips. This was the closest he had ever been. The faint hint of pine, or maybe cedar, cinnamon, and something... earthy but fresh like rain on grass, catching you slightly off guard as it envelopes your senses.
With your heart leaping up into your throat once more, you feel a heat stir between your legs. A new, sudden weakness in your knees makes you feel shaky all over again as you slowly draw your eyes back up to Quaritch's. He readily meets your gaze with his own, and the intensity of his golden eyes made you feel as if he was looking through you, into you.
Quaritch urges the file from your hands. His fingertips brush against your own as he takes it from you to place behind him on the desk.
His touch sends sparks across your skin and up your spine. Your body shudders as your breath catches in your throat.
"Colonel, I-"
Before the words had even left your lips, Quaritch slipped his other hand around your waist. The sheer size of it leaves you both intrigued and genuinely terrified as he moves to gently guide you toward him.
You wouldn't have been able to fight it even if you had wanted to.
The heat of Quaritch's palm seeps through your shirt and settles against your back. You bring your hands up to rest against his torso, feeling his chest expand with every breath he takes. The slow, heavy beating of his heart was like a drum.
"Miles... what are you doing..."
The way Quaritch's eyes dart to your lips confirms the suspicions dancing at the edge of your thoughts, but you wait for him to answer anyway.
"I can't fight this anymore, (Y/N)..." He gently nuzzles his nose into your cheek.
His voice was deep, deeper than you had ever heard, and husky. The breathy words fall against your ear in a purr that rumbles beneath your fingertips as you guide your hands over his broad chest. The shiver he gave in return not going unnoticed under your palms
"M-Miles...."
The words come out breathy and desperate, but they are more than enough, and you moan as you feel Quaritch slot his thigh between your own. You rest your head against his chest as he draws you flush to his torso.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
The steady thud of Mile's heart overtook the sound of your own, and you moved one hand to steady yourself against his thigh. He slips a few fingers beneath your shirt in return, and they trace your spine slowly,
"You're everything I've ever wanted..(y/n)..."
You hadn't a clue what he said, not speaking a lick of Na'vi yourself, but his whisper tickled against your neck. Then, Quaritch nuzzles against you again, and you arch into him as his free hand moves to your stomach to aid in urging up the edge of your shirt. You feel the chill of the air against your flushed skin and let your eyes flutter shut as you bite your lip.
A groan rises in your throat with the feeling of soft kisses as they're placed against your neck. It presses against your lips before Quaritch coerces his thigh up between yours further and comes out as a moan. You feel the way Quaritch smiles against your neck.
"Don't be shy, Cupcake..."
Another moan rises from your lips as you feel Quaritch guide your hips. He pulls them down against his thigh once and then again. Slowly building up a rhythm. That's when you feel a hot well of pleasure blossom between your thighs. Your hips now rocking down against Quaritch eagerly to match his pace.
He continues to guide you down against his thigh with one hand as he pushes your shirt up more, swiftly helping you out of it before casting it aside.
Now with only the thin cotton layer of his shirt between you, you could feel just how warm Miles was. You press up against him further, seeking more, craving more. Your senses want nothing other than to be drowned in him entirely.
"Take this off... I want to feel you, too..." it was more of a whiney begging than a demand.
Your hands tug feebly at the front of Quaritch's shirt for emphasis. You look up at him through your lashes for added effect, hoping to use whatever charm you have against him in an attempt to persuade him to comply with your wishes.
The chuckle Quaritch gives as he slides his hand up and down your back makes your stomach do somersaults,
"Jesus, you're fuckin' pathetic..." he murmurs, smiling wide like a kid on Christmas morning.
He lets go of you briefly and pulls back just enough to remove his top, discarding it to the side so it could join yours on the floor. Then, he pulls you back into him, holding you firmly, securely to his chest, but not in a restricting or controlling way. Instead, it felt safe and protective, and you again buried yourself into him.
The feeling of his skin burns against you pleasantly, his feverish warmth reminding you of a heated blanket. You wrap your arms around him the best you can. Your face nuzzled into his chest. Then, you squeeze your thighs around his as you impatiently roll your hips down against him.
"Fuck, baby... just like that..."
Quaritch's low moan causes you to whimper, but only seconds later, you gasp, feeling him lift you up into his arms with little to no difficulty. You may as well have been a ragdoll for all the difference it made.
He turns and kneels down, settling you on top of the cold desk. The loss of his heat and touch immediately leaves you aching. This is quickly forgotten, though, as large hands pull your hips forward. A soft yelp of surprise leaves your lips and you find yourself now seated at the edge of the tabletop.
"C'mon momma... lemme get a look at'cha."
Quaritch leans in to kiss your stomach, peppering more of them upon your skin as he slowly moves down your torso. His hands and nimble fingers quickly make work of the button on your jeans all the while.
Meeting your eyes briefly, Quaritch looks up from between your legs. The intensity of his lust in that hungry gaze turns your cheeks pink before he then slides your jeans off. With your pants out of the way, Quaritch begins to press fleeting kisses to the place just above your panties.
The warmth of his breath tickled against your thighs. You feel yourself grow wet, biting back a whimper. You're unable to hold on to it for long, though, with the way Quaritch presses a kiss to your still-clothed pussy. The sensation forces you to lean back on your elbows. Your face tipping toward the ceiling.
This seemed to send Quaritch over the edge because he all but rips your panties from off your legs before pressing an eager kiss between them.
A shiver runs up your spine, and you tremble at the feeling as you lay back flat on the desk; your hands immediately moving down to hold onto Quaritch with a gasp. Nothing could be compared to the sensation of his mouth against you, his lips encompassing you entirely as he began pressing wet kisses to your clit. His tongue working its way into you. You jerk slightly at the unexpected sensation and thread your fingers into his short hair, pulling gently.
Quaritch, in turn, moans into you, which causes you to arch your back, and your jaw goes slack with a silent gasp. His hands continue to hold your thighs around his head, grounding you yet leaving you spinning simultaneously.
With your knees hooked over his shoulders, Quaritch uses his hands to pull you closer before allowing one to come to rest upon your stomach, stilling your hips as they writhed. He kept you pinned against the desk like this for a long while. His tongue lapping at your wetness, tasting every inch of you as it pushes into you, continuing to explore you. It was long, thick, and filled you better than any other man could have, discovering every single spot that made you cry out for him in blissful agony.
Then you felt the hand still at your thigh move.
Now using his fingers to gently brush against your clit, Quaritch removes his tongue from inside of you. His lips press sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs as he lets his thumb tease over your entrance.
You shudder in return. Your body practically begged, pleading to be filled once more with how it quivered at every cursory touch.
Quaritch leans in and presses another kiss to your clit as he continues to tease you. His fingers spread your wetness as it drips from you.
Then, you feel him gently press one into you. The tip of his finger sinks into your soaked pussy as his other hand continues to hold you down against the desk.
"Shhh... Shhh, baby... I've got you... I know..."
His voice was gentle, softer than you had ever heard it before, as it soothed your whimpers, but something dangerous and greedy lay beneath it.
You writhe under his palm, desperate for more, as you bring a hand of your own up to rest over his, the other gripping the edge of the desk.
It wasn't enough.
You needed him, all of him. You wanted Quaritch to fill you, mark you, breed you. You needed him to claim you... and you didn't care about the consequences.
"Please! Miles... please...! I need it, I need you- it's not enough-"
A low, threatening growl slipped from Quaritch's lips as he sank his finger deeper inside you. The Avatar nuzzles against your inner thigh and gently nips at the flesh. It was evident with the amount of restraint he was using that being delicate with you was no easy feat.
"I know, Cupcake... Just hold on a second..." He slowly thrusts his finger into and out of you, steadily working his way up to an agonizingly sluggish pace.
You whimper again, desperation twisting in your gut as he stretches you. The mild kisses he carried on peppering you with did little to distract from your distress.
The sudden feeling of a second digit as it prodded at your entrance caused you to jerk slightly. The size of one finger was already pushing it, and the thought of a second left you hesitant. It felt like it took an eternity, but eventually, you were closer to what you asked for.
"Want me to stop?" The concern in Miles' voice was more genuine than anything you had heard before.
You shake your head quickly, forcing yourself to relax once more, which was easy seeing as Miles had taken it upon himself to nuzzle against your thigh. His gentle kisses and the way he caresses your stomach with his thumb ease you back into submission almost immediately,
"Good girl..."
You barely had time to process what he had said before you felt the second finger join the first. The initial pain made you feel like you were going to split in two. There was no way you could take it all. What were you thinking-
You feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly squeeze them shut, hoping Quaritch hadn't seen before your felt wetness streak down across your cheeks.
"Fuck, (y/n), y'alright?"
He keeps his fingers still inside you, not moving an inch when he spots the wet trails on your face. His hand resting on your stomach now moves to cup the side of your face as he leans down over you.
Opening your eyes, you're met with Quaritch's worry. His eyes search your face frantically for anything to tell him to stop despite the calm nature of his voice. Reaching up to him, you gently take his face in your hands and smile. Your thumbs smoothed against his cheeks in a way that soothed the lines of worry creasing his brow. Now that the pain had subsided, you could feel the echos of pleasure in your core building once more.
"Seems like you do have a heart after all..."
The teasing tone of your voice seemed to release him from his petrified state, and he scowls at you. You were so familiar with the look that you couldn't help but feel a sense of fondness for it.
"I oughtta teach ya a lesson for that..." He murmurs, sighing softly with palpable relief.
You giggle, and his lips move to press a kiss to your cheek, just below your eye. Then, he gives a small, testing thrust with his fingers.
Initially, you feel a small jolt of pain, hissing in a breath softly. It's quickly washed out by the pleasure that follows, and you give a stuttering moan. His thick fingers are inside you, making you feel full and desperate, hungry for more, as you roll your hips down against them.
A low growl fills Quaritch's throat. The deep, heavy rumble echoed in your chest as it slipped from between his lips before he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. Then, his hand moves back down to slip beneath you. The way his palm rests against your back as you arch up into his chest makes you moan and you drape your arms around his broad shoulders. His touch is like electricity as it dances across your skin.
"Miles..." You moan, "hurry..."
The tickle of your breath at his ear as you whine sends shivers down Miles' spine, and he groans into you. His fingers still curling inside of you as he rocks against you. He had been through many trials and tests of will as a Marine, but this... you were something else.
Abandoning the little patience he had left, Quaritch allows his fingers to slip free from inside you. The soft curses he gave under his breath as he moved to undo his belt were your only warning for what came next.
Undoing the button at the front of his trousers, Miles leans back over you, planting one arm above you. His other hand worked his pants down just enough to expose his massive length. He chuckles a bit as he looks down, though not in the cocky, sarcastic way he usually does. This seemed more... skeptical or disheartened, maybe even sad.
"Ya' sure 'bout this, Sweetheart...?"
For a moment, you stared down at his cock, contemplating its size and girth. You didn't care what it took; this was what you wanted. You cast your worries aside.
"Miles..."
He looks up at you, almost seeming surprised. His ears move in the direction of your voice, one giving a gentle flick. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, lacing your fingers through his hair. Your eyes watch his before you glance down to his lips as you pull him closer.
He relaxes under your touch, shivering at the sensation of your nails as they drag gently against his scalp.
"Take me..."
That was all he needed.
A low groan leaves Miles' lips as he moves to bury his head against your neck, and his eyes slip closed as he lines himself up with your pussy. The wetness and warmth of it as he rubs the head of his cock between your folds makes him weak.
You can't help but tremble as you feel him rub against your clit, squirming below him now as you grow more and more desperate to feel him inside of you with every passing second.
As if sensing this, Quaritch guides the tip of his cock to your entrance and prods at you gently before pushing into you with a low growl. He doesn't allow himself to go much further than the tip, but it's enough to leave him panting.
The groans pouring from his lips met your gasps, and you clutched at him frantically, clinging to him as if he were a lifesaver thrown to you in the ocean. The sheer pleasure that washed over you, leaving you drowning, completely overriding any pain you felt. Then, Quaritch sank deeper. His jaw goes slack with a low, deep moan as he feels your walls tighten around him enthusiastically, inviting him further.
You cry out in ecstasy, both of you seeming to have completely forgotten about the possibility of anyone hearing you, not that it mattered. You could tell Quaritch reveled in the idea.
"Louder," he hissed, grunting softly as he thrust into you once, "let everyone know what a whore ya' are for me."
Slowly, he draws out of you once more, only to give another harsh thrust a few seconds later. It was apparent he was being careful not to go too deep, though. His free hand now pinning you down beneath him and against the desk as his other arm remained planted above you.
"MILES-!"
His name leaves your lips in a near scream, and you squeeze your legs around his waist. Your nails drag red trails into the skin on his back as you scramble for anything to hold onto. The way his cock thrust in and out of you left you keening with every slight movement. The knot of pleasure that twisted in your gut grew stronger, especially as the pace quickened.
Groaning, Quaritch angles himself into the sweet spots his tongue had discovered earlier, and his thoughts grew hazy the more he lost himself in you. He then pushes gently against your lower stomach and hips with his hand, using gentle, steady pressure to not only keep you beneath him but to feel the slight bulge of his cock as it moves within you.
The added pressure only seems to amplify your overwhelming ecstasy as you begin to involuntary buck your hips the best you can with them pinned. Your thighs shaking, twitching as you tried to hold on.
"Mi-Miles- I'm- please, oh fu...ck- ah, MILES-!"
You plead with him frantically as you feel yourself getting closer to your release, only for it to be quickly ripped away as Miles stilled inside of you.
A long, desperate whine builds in your throat as a weak sob bubbles up from your lips. The feeling of pleasure overwhelmed you, leaving you teetering on the edge of an orgasm just out of reach.
"Shhh... I know, sugar... you're doin' so good for me..."
His words reach your ears as a soft coo, and you let out another soft sob. A new set of fresh tears streaking down your cheeks once more. You had never been so frustrated yet felt something so good before. That's when Miles slowly pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in his embrace again. His hold again firm, secure, and protective as he lifts you up.
He turns to sit on top of the desk, holding you in his lap. The way he sat you on his cock now allows him to go a bit deeper as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck. Slowly, he guides your hips, rolling them down against his lap as he kisses along your throat and jaw.
The shift in position left you weak, and you allowed Quaritch to have his way with you. That knot of pleasure between your legs quickly reformed as you spread them further. Your arms still draped around Quaritch's neck as you pressed flush against him.
Not even a moment later, the dam broke. Your body leaned into Quaritch's as you felt your orgasm overtake you. The build-up of pressure and pleasure between your legs finally washed over you as you cried out for one last time. The sound was pornographic, loud, and primal as it filled the room.
Quaritch stilled inside you with one last moan, sounding just as animalistic as you had, and he spilled his seed deep inside you, clutching you to him with an arm around your waist. The other gently cradles your head against his chest as he nuzzles the top of your head with his nose.
He looks down at you, panting as a slow smile works its way onto his lips, before chuckling breathlessly and shaking his head, burying into your hair once more.
You give an exhausted chuckle and whimper softly, still feeling your pussy clenching around Quaritch's cock, milking him of every drop.
Your arms now wrapped around his shoulders limply, allowing your hands to trace thoughtless shapes into the skin at the back of his neck.
"We're gonna be so fuckin' screwed ..." He says, starting to laugh sincerely, "Ain't no way we're gettin' out of bein' reported."
You blush, and your entire face turns scarlet at the mere idea of someone having heard your lewd cries. So much for attempting to keep things quiet.
Your supervisors were going to have a field day with this.
